


the pulse that rages for you

by miraclemoon



Series: Looking at the Sun (ABO Series) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Body Worship, Bottom Steve Rogers, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Feeding, Just the Tip, Knotting, M/M, Making Love, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Rogers, POV Alternating, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Scenting, Sex Pollen, Teasing, Top Bucky Barnes, a fic no one asked for, they're both saps for each other its awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraclemoon/pseuds/miraclemoon
Summary: In the midst of a mission, Steve is caught in the middle of an enemy made gas that forces him into heat. AKA, an ABO pwp that no one asked for.





	1. In the Field

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly just a self-indulgent fic. I've been wanting to write an ABO Stucky fic for a while now, cause I'm complete and utter trash for it. Here it is! As always, I have no beta so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> First part is in Steve's POV.

He’s too slow.

His fist has already extended out towards the enemy when he sees one of the masked men in his periphery throw a cylinder can towards him. The glint of metal catches his eyes, patronizing as it rolls easily towards him. By the time he notices it, there isn’t enough time to pull his shield up and protect himself from the worst of the emission.

The can hisses and gas envelopes the room, sitting thick and heavy in the area as it invades Steve’s body.

The gas is blinding. Steve’s lungs contract and spasm as he tries not to inhale, his breaths shallow as the substance burns his nostrils and itches at his throat. His eyes sting behind his mask, and he hardly lands a proper punch at the approaching enemy as he tries to blink the tears away.

He got too careless, he thinks absently, he hadn’t paid enough attention to enemies coming in through the West Wing, and now he’s caught himself in the middle of God knows what substance they’ve poisoned him with. For all he knows this could be a neurotoxin he's inhaling, because Steve’s damn certain that if it was reserved specifically for a super soldier, they wouldn’t be adverse to using something that would completely incapacitate him.

He brings his leg over to kick at an approaching enemy, throwing his shield over to ricochet against another man’s head as he coughs into his elbow.

“Team –“ Steve calls from the com's, lightheaded, “Avoid the forty-third floor, the area’s been contaminated. I repeat, avoid the perimeter – they’ve expelled gas into the area. It's potentially hazardous.”

_“Get out of there, Rogers!”_ He hears Bucky growl through the coms, and if he wasn’t so focused on doing exactly that, he’d find the comment almost endearing, the way that worry spikes through Bucky's tone. Steve scans the area, approaching a potential exit. His vision goes hazy as he staggers into the hallway, though he's disappointed to find that all exits are blocked off by approaching enemies and bolted down doorways. Even the area that he entered through has been completely boarded off, and in his current condition, it's unlikely he could simply tear it down.

Trying to trap him in. Typical.

He makes it through ten men before he feels a tickle at the base of his spine, and it’s not until the last man finally goes down that Steve’s knee’s start to give out, his movements clumsy as he stumbles through the hallway. He’s too disoriented to navigate the area properly, and the fever that overcomes him intensifies with each minute.

_“Steve,”_ Bucky's voice calls out into his ear piece, tumbling the man out from his momentary daze, _“Steve, where are you?”_

He cough’s through his line, static fraying.

_“Rogers, where the hell –”_

“Stark –“ Steve finally answers, voice wavering, “That mask of yours any good at filtering through gas?”

_“You know it is, Cap. Where are you?”_

“Forty-third floor, East Wing.... exits are blocked off, no windows in my area.” he inhales sharply, the line going quiet as the fumes curl in his lungs. His suit feels constrictive against his skin, practically suffocating him. A tremor trails up his spine, and he gasps. Jesus, this almost feels like, like –

_“Steve,“_ his mate calls out, and Steve practically moans at the sound of Bucky’s voice, body trembling.

_“Robocop, stay at your post. I got him. I’ll be right there, Cap.”_

The minutes bleed together until he hears the rev of Tony’s suit blast through one of the steel bolted doors, quickly approaching the immobile super soldier. He's currently supporting himself against one of the frames of the building, back pressing against the divider. Steve’s hair sticks to his forehead underneath his helmet, so weak he can hardly keep his eyes open long enough to glance at his teammate.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Tony calls from before him, quickly approaching, “This isn’t exactly the best place to lay down and rest.”

Steve groans in response, unable to hold his weight as his arm snakes behind Tony’s shoulders. His grip goes slack as he stumbles down to his knees, a sharp gasp offered in response. Tony moves quickly, brows knitted together in concentration as he glances at the blond, supporting him in his arms to keep him from tumbling down onto the cement.

“I’m going to pick you up,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t even answer, simply lets himself go pliant when Tony brings a hand under his knees and picks him up effortlessly, pressing him to his chest. The cold metal is refreshing against Steve’s overheated skin, and he all but tosses his mask off, pressing his forehead against the plating of Tony’s suit. Once secure in his arms, Tony quickly begins navigating through the corridor.

“Give me an update, Steve. How are you doing?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but the words die in his throat as Tony quickly steers through the building. He tries to think, tries to answer, but where one thought starts, another one quickly throws him off tangent, the words too jumbled on his tongue to bother trying to form. They’re out of the building in moments, Steve inhaling sharply as he fills his lungs with fresh air. The change is so sudden that he bursts into a coughing fit, his sinuses burning and his lungs aching from the toxin. When he finally catches his breath, Steve inhales so deeply that his lungs ache from the stretch, the action helping to clear the fog in his head but only further solidifying the pain that throbs through his system. 

Though he feels more clear-headed, the breeze does little against the fever that's savaged Steve's body, thrumming through his limbs and settling beneath his skin.

Realization pierces through his haze of thoughts when he registers that slick is trickling down his thighs, dampening his uniform.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps, clawing helplessly at Tony’s suit, heart rate picking up, “T-Tony, I –“

“Shit,” he hears Tony whisper, voice low and serious. He can’t smell the pheromones through his filtered mask, though Steve’s vitals are currently projected through the monitor of the man's mask, only reinforcing what the brunet was anxious to admit.

“Taking Capsicle back to Avengers Tower,” he reports to the team, clutching Steve tightly in his arms. “Nat, how you guys doing?”

_“We’ll manage –“_ she answers quickly, breath uneven from exertion, _“Get him out of here. We’ll meet you back in the tower.”_

_“Stark, what the hell happened?”_ Bucky asks through the com’s, irritated. Steve’s certain Bucky can sense an imbalance in his mate, hyper vigilant of Steve’s well being after having bonded with the man. His bond mark flares for a moment, and Steve gasps pathetically, body contracting in preparation for his forced heat.

_What was in that gas?_

“Bucky,” Steve calls out from his com, voice raspy yet trying to retain some semblance of authority, “I’m okay. We need you out there. Just…cooperate, alright? I’ll be back at the tower.”

He doesn’t register what is said next, simply clings limply against Tony’s suit as they navigate through the maze of New York. The blood thrums against his ear drums, liquid fire coursing through his veins as he twitches against Tony’s grip, unable to hold his composure.  

By the time they’ve made it to the tower, Steve is a victim to his heat.


	2. In The Midst of Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finally arrives back to Avenger's Tower

“ _Bucky_ ,” his mate answers, voice strained,  _“I’m okay. We need you out there. Just…cooperate, alright? I’ll be back at the tower.”_

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, adrenaline burning through his veins. He exhales sharply, brow twitching minutely. _To hell with cooperating_ , he wants to say, much too focused on Steve’s well being to care about anyone else’s. A rush of energy surges through his body, hyper focused on every sound that filters through the com's. Anxiety bubbles through his chest, and a sinking feeling quickly follows suit, sitting heavy in his stomach like an unmoving stone.

He chews at the gummy underside of his cheek, nose flared. He wills himself to relax, to unclench his jaw as he tries to surrender to Steve’s request.

“Stark, you get him there safe or it’s your head I’m after.”

Bucky spits out the command, the words burning his tongue. He hates the thought of another alpha bringing his Stevie to safety, hates how it’s Tony who gets to escort the omega back to the tower to seek medical attention. He doesn’t even know what the hell is wrong with him, but whatever it is, it clearly can’t be good if the super soldier has to leave the field immediately. The man would rather charge head first into battle with a bullet lodged in his side then ever consider leaving, let alone admit there's something wrong with him.

 _“Don’t have to ask me twice.”_ Tony answers, tone firm.

The brunet exhales, trying to clear his thoughts. It’s ignorant of him to be so single minded this way, to direct his frustration at Tony when he’s the one helping Steve. He’s doing them a great service in ensuring Steve’s well being, and he should thank him, really.

The rationality does little to calm the jealousy that churns in his stomach.

They’re there for hours, specialized SHIELD agents arriving to quarantine the area that disabled Steve. With their Captain out of the scene, another attack was staged in Lower Manhattan, forcing Falcon and Hawkeye to extinguish the strike while he and Nat remained back to protect the area. Bucky is all but tempted to give the world and Fury a big _fuck you_ and just leave, make it back to the tower on his own and return to his mate's side. But when more men come steadily approaching, swarming Natasha on the ground level, he quickly narrows back into the scope of his sniper and wills his racing hear to relax. 

There were strict orders for no one but certified agents to enter into the radius of the source, and after the last of the new wave of enemies have been taken down, Bucky paces restlessly, tasting copper on his tongue as he chews at his bottom lip in agitation. Tony has yet to offer him a proper update, his vagueness infuriating the last two times he tried contacting him. For a man who doesn’t know how to shut up, this is one of the few moments Bucky would appreciate him uttering more than just a few words.

“Is it poisonous?” he hears Natasha ask to one of the agents, taking note of their medical body suits.

“Not exactly, but it seems to be successful at impairing enemies. We’re still waiting on lab results from Rogers, but the area is currently being flushed out. Whatever’s in it has got the team a little antsy, and the last thing we need is it spreading to civilians.”

Bucky’s jaw tightens at the response. He eyes at Natasha, who also returns a worried gaze, confusion reflected in her expression. He shifts his stance, fists clenching and unclenching absently. His heart races in his chest, and it’s surely just the anxiety of worrying over Steve, he thinks, especially with how little he knows about how his partner is doing.

It’s much too long until they return back to Avengers tower, Bucky all but racing out of the jet the moment the wheels hit the landing area. “Barnes, I’m sure he’s fine –“ Sam tries to offer, but Bucky hardly acknowledges him, simply navigates through the maze of Avenger's tower with single-minded focus. He disregards the elevator and races up the stairwell, Sam cursing under his breath as he hauls his heavy uniform with him. Once they've arrived to the clinic, Bucky damn near bares his teeth when one of the nurses tries to prevent their entry, his blood raging so hot and fast through his veins he can hardly fathom pleasantries at this point. Sam quickly intervenes when he notices the surprised look on the nurse's face, calm and sweet toned in his request to offer a balance from Bucky's sudden irrationality.

"We're here to see Dr. Leong regarding Steve's current condition. It's very important." Sam offers, and the nurse nods, eager to comply after being scared half to death. 

Sam eye's the brunet a dirty look once they pass through the doors, but Bucky’s sliver of guilt is quickly overshadowed when he catches sight of Tony. 

“Where is he?” he asks suddenly to the brunet, who is currently speaking with Dr. Leong. Stark's currently out of his suit, wearing no more than a basic tank top and jeans with a slight flush against his skin. Bucky shifts his stance, willing himself to not present as so aggressive but unable to contain his concern for his omega. He hadn’t so much as stepped out of his uniform when they arrived, his sniper still slung across his back and rows of knives and guns hidden within the sleeves and pockets of his uniform. Perhaps that wasn't the best idea, intimating a nurse while clearly showcasing at least 5 visible weapons on his belt alone.

Dr. Leong eyes at him, surveying his stance, and Bucky damn well feels ready to start spitting fire, the itch under his skin only intensifying.

“ _Where_ is Steve?” he repeats, impatient.

“Yeah,” Tony answers, a bit anxious, “About that…”

“Mr. Barnes,” the doctor steps in between the two men, clipboard in hand, “We think it’s necessary that we conduct a quick check up on you.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at that, annoyed.

“Given Mr. Rogers condition, it is likely that as a bonded pair, his current state may influence your own biology. Should this be the case, we need to work quickly in notifying the other agents who may have been infected.”

Bucky grinds his teeth, Sam’s hand steady on his shoulder to try and calm the irritated alpha. It works, but just barely. He appreciates the effort, though there is little to calm his boiling rage except the sight of his omega.

“Is he okay?” he asks, desperate. The lack of knowledge is _killing_ him.

The doctor swallows thickly, exchanging a glance back at Tony, who stands there apprehensively. “Yes. The gas that he was exposed to has triggered him into an early heat, and it is likely that it may push you into rut. We suspect the serum is metabolizing it quickly, though it is hard to say if it will last as one of his standard heats.”

Bucky swallows thickly, brows knitted in concentration.

“If I may, Mr. Barnes,” the doctor requests, stethoscope in hand. Bucky nods, eyeing at the doorway that should surely lead to the room they’ve sequestered Steve into. The doctor takes note of his heart rate and blood pressure, even checking his eyes and writing all of the information down immediately.

“As expected, your body is showing classic symptoms in preparation for your rut. Your scent has also intensified in the time you have been here,” she remarks. Tony’s already moved to the other side of the room, the scent of another alpha surely making him a bit antsy as he tries to busy himself with reading over some documents.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Barnes?”

“Impatient.” He spits without hesitation, and Sam all but scoffs, unsurprised.

The doctor nods, methodical. “Right. Rogers is currently asleep the last we checked on him, though we have kept you waiting long enough. Please, follow me.”

As if she’d have to ask him twice.

He follows the doctor through the corridor, willing himself to not race past her and tear the door right off its bolts. She presses her ID against the card reader, the device flashing green as the doors hiss and open. They enter into the room, medical equipment scattered across one of the work benches, grey walls and fluorescent lighting encompassing the room. A two-way mirror stretches across the length of the wall adjacent to them, and Bucky all but rushes towards it, his hands pressing against the glass as he looks inside. The heat from his palms emanates against the panel, clouding the glass.

“Look,” Tony calls out from behind him, “We’re not one for impeding on your privacy, but the only thing that would calm him down was one of your shirts.” Bucky hardly hears him, too immersed in the sight of tousled blond hair and pink pale skin to bother responding back to the man. Steve rests in the hospital bed, unmoving. 

“If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t the one in there.”

He stares at Steve through the glass of the clinic room, watching the minute twitches of his body as he curls in deeper into himself. Half his face is buried into Bucky's cotton t-shirt, but he can still make out the flush of his skin, the way rivulets of sweat reflect against the light. He catches traces of his uniform littered across the floor, the blond wearing no more than a sweat damp tank top and his navy briefs. He’s at the end of one of his heat waves right now, too exhausted from hours of unfulfilled desire to even keep his eyes open.

Bucky’s heart beat picks up at the sight, his throat going tight.

“You have to let me in.” he says, body thrumming with desire and empathy at the sight of his omega, regretful that he had taken so long to arrive, that Steve was forced to brave it alone for so long.

“We have no intention of further separating you two, Mr. Barnes.” The doctor answers, walking towards the door of Steve’s room. “We understand that doing so will only…further complicate the situation. Also, please stand back, Mr. Stark.”

Tony quickly moves out into the hallway, wanting to avoid another dizzying rush of omega pheromones from filling his senses. Bucky can only imagine how overwhelmed the poor sap was the moment he stepped out from his suit, unable to steel himself from the sudden onslaught of hormones that flooded his senses. 

Bucky makes haste.

He quickly strips the weapons from his uniform, undoing the laces of his boots and peeling off the leathery material of his suit. Sam is quick to rid him of his weapons, his cheeks going a little flushes as he tries to step away from the door. Even for a beta, a blush forms across his cheeks, mildly affected by Steve's state.

Bucky's fingers twitch as he enters, and he’s no more than a foot inside before he momentarily goes dizzy. The room is saturated with his mate’s pheromones, the scent so thick that it’s practically palpable. The door behind him closes and a low grown erupts from deep in his throat, sweat collecting on his brow. Even at the height of his heat, his Stevie's scent hardly permeates through the room this intensely. A rush of empathy strikes his chest; he can only imagine how much his poor fella has had to suffer.  

He approaches his omega, each movement methodical and careful. His knee dips into the mattress and he hovers over the blond,bringing an arm over to support his weight beside his partner's head. Steve gasps wantonly, tremors trailing up the length of his spine as he catches Bucky’s scent. He gives a shaken exhale, eyes heavy lidded as he beckons to glance at his mate. He lifts his head for a moment, but it quickly dips back down, too heavy to keep up for longer then a few moments. 

Bucky noses against the length of Steve’s neck, long hair tickling at his lover’s exposed shoulder and the nape of his neck. He moves slowly, nudges against the pulse point that rages against his Stevie’s throat and slowly inhales, filling his lungs with the intoxicating scent of his omega. Like apple cider, he thinks absently, mouth watering, relishing the scent of his mate.

“Hi baby,” Bucky says fondly, bringing a hand over to caress up Steve’s exposed thigh, relishing in the way his partner jumps at the sensation. Steve groans, movements jittery as he attempts to push into the contact. He blinks wetly, lifting his head back to rest against Bucky’s shoulder, using the leverage to scent at his partner in return. Steve exhales a pathetic moan, teeth nipping at the velvety skin of Bucky’s neck as his breath tickles at Bucky's flesh. His tongue pokes out and he licks the salt and dust off the man's skin, unbothered by the tangy taste of combat. He shivers as he inhales sharply, overwhelmed by Bucky’s sudden proximity.

“God,” Bucky sighs raggedly, hand traveling to rest on Steve’s hip, “Poor baby, what did they do to you?”

“Please…“ the blond begs, moving over onto his stomach as he spreads his thighs further apart. Bucky eyes at the slivers of wet slick that trickle down his partner's thighs, notices the wet patch on his briefs that sticks to his skin. The sheets beneath his hips are stained with his sweetheart's slick, and Bucky can feel the desire coiling in his lower abdomen, becoming more incessant with each passing moment. Steve's body is heavy against the mattress, using the last of his energy to lift his hips and angle them towards Bucky in presentation. 

“Please, _alpha_ –“

He's never been one to keep his Stevie waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will start back at Steve's POV, though I'll be switching POV's more steadily once they really get into it. Next part will be posted by next weekened!


	3. In Sterile Sheets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick backtrack to Tony freaking out, but goodies will shortly follow.

The door splinters into pieces, the metal hinges clanking across the polished clinic floor. One of the nurse’s shrieks in response, and at least a dozen papers go flying into the air.

“Mr. Stark!” Dr. Leong shrieks, unable to fathom the sight before her as she watches the man lower himself onto the floor, the flames of his boots dissipating as he reaches ground level.

“Listen, I’ll pay for that,” he supplies quickly, the words coming out in one breath, “But, uh, golden boy over here kinda needs some assistance before I sign the check.”

He clutches Steve tighter to his chest, the blond man curled into the metal plates of Stark’s suit. The nurses in the area step back for a moment, off put by the sudden omega scent that was beginning to engulf the room. Dr. Leong slowly approaches, taking sight of the disheveled super soldier.

“He’s going into heat?” she asks in disbelief, brows knitted in concentration, “Mr. Rogers cycle is not due for another 6 weeks, what on earth –“

“Capsicle was under a chemical attack in our mission just now. He was the only one there, but he’s kinda struggling right now.”

Dr. Leong blinks, confused.

“And you _didn’t_ bring him to the toxicologist?” one of the nurses asks in annoyance, hiding her nose behind a clipboard as her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

“Alright, to be _fair_ , given the fact that his hormones are having a blast in his body right now, I thought it was safe to assume that the endocrinologist could help and answer _why_ he’s leaking all over me!”

“Sorry,” Steve breathes against the metal plate of Tony’s suit, and the man groans, wishing he could facepalm himself right about now. Why couldn’t Barnes be the one with the flying metal suit? He should really be the one holding the flustered omega right now.

Dr. Leong approaches, removing Steve’s Captain America helmet to take note of his complexion. Blond strands of hair stick to his sweat slick forehead, pupils dilated to hell and back. She brings a methodical hand to check his pulse, and Steve groans at the simple contact, motioning away from any other lingering touches.

She clicks at her tongue. “There are too many possibilities. For all we know, they’ve poisoned him with a substance that manifests into the symptoms of a heat to distract from real neurological damage that is being done. I can start checking his androgens and hormone levels, but we need Dr. Scherling to evaluate any damage to his central or peripheral nervous system before any additional damage is done.”

Dr. Leong eyes at Tony, who is helplessly carrying Steve, desperate for direction. “We’ll put him in one of the rooms while we get organized, it’s not wise to keep him out in the open.”

“Yeah, good thing the clinic’s all the way on the 30th floor, only everyone working underneath us can smell him.”

Tony follows the nurses through the corridors of the clinic, his metal boots clanking against the floor as he cradles the super soldier in his arms.

“Steve, how are you doing?” Dr. Leong asks, taking note of all physical symptoms he’s exhibiting.

He exhales, the breath practically punched out of his lungs. “Feels like the real thing,” he answers pathetically, trying to offer some semblance of a laugh to lighten the mood. Another wave crackles up his spine, and he gasps in response, too weak to fight it off.

He feels an array of fingers press and probe at his body once he’s resting on the hospital bed, heart monitor _beep-beeping_ rapidly at his side as the array of faces all bleed together. They try to ask him questions, to get more information, but nothing registers in his head, all sounds clustering into one cloud of white noise. He can distantly hear Tony talking to him, but he forces his face away from his direction, hiding his nose to prevent inhaling anymore of the alpha’s scent. He breathes deeply when he feels his uniform being stripped away, appreciative of being removed from its confines but shuddering as goosebumps prickle across the expanse of his exposed skin.

It only gets worse the longer this goes on. He’s trapped at the top of a wave, his muscles constricting and flesh raging like an open fire ready to encompass everything in its path. It’s blinding, how he is a victim to the onslaught, and the air around him sours as a hollowness tears through his chest.

“Bucky,” Steve gasps against the bed, sweat drenching the last vestiges of his clothes, “B-Buck…where’s Bucky?”

He grips absently at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto, to find security in. The desire spikes through his body and he moans pathetically, the sensation so intense that tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. “F-Fuck…” he moans, reminded of the days before he mated with Bucky, when he had to brave his heats all on his own. Except God, this is so, _so_ much worse. Like a flame that won’t dwindle against the breeze, Steve is forced to let himself be torn apart by the carnage of each wave, unable to combat them with sheer will of resistance alone.

“Drink some water, Mr. Rogers.” The nurse offers, though Steve ignores the glass, simply burying his face deeper into his pillow. The probing hands have ceased their ministrations, but he can still hear people speaking nonsense at the foot of his bed, his nose scrunched at all of the various scents that are invading his space. The entire room smells sterilized, no semblances to his mate’s scent, and Steve whines at the disappointment of it all, unable to contain the emotions that are so steadily flowing through him.

He shouldn’t be like this – his last heat had hardly been a few weeks ago, he’s not due for well over another month! Loneliness grips at his chest like a vice, because he knows Bucky is still keeping everyone safe, doing his job as an Avenger. Though that does little to appease the pain that’s splintering through his heart.

“Bucky –” the omega begs for wantonly, slick coating his thighs and dripping onto the mattress. He doesn’t register when the nurses leave, though Steve is suddenly awake when one of them re-enters, placing an object beside his pillow.

A shiver trails up his spine at the scent that welcomes his lungs. Steve grabs the object without hesitation, fingers gripping at the cotton shirt with primal need. He buries his nose into the seams of the worn t-shirt and grips so tight the fabric groans, the cotton stretching and beckoning to tear. Bucky’s scent is thick on the shirt, offering the blond some reprieve from the raging hormones that had flooded him. He inhales deeply, holding the scent in his lungs before slowly, so _slowly_ , exhaling. Steve repeats this until the sweat at the nape of his neck begins to cool, the restrained energy in his limbs slowly uncoiling. He allows himself to be lulled by the scent, the tension gradually leaving his body the longer he breathes in Bucky’s scent.

He gives a content sigh, pleased.

“Mr. Barnes is on his way,” he hears the doctor say distantly, though Steve hardly registers it, too exhausted to focus on anything else except the thought of his mate.

He closes his eyes and lets the scent carry him away.  

It’s not until hours later he’s suddenly jolted awake, the scent of cedar wood mingling in the air and saturating the entryway. He distantly hears the door open and shut, but his body feels too heavy to move, to bother looking back and checking for himself.

The sound of footsteps gradually becomes louder, more present. They stop once they hit the foot of the bed, and he can feel the mattress begin to shift to accommodate the additional weight. A calloused hand trails up the length of his thigh, and the touch practically burns him, electricity trailing up the length of Steve’s spine. He feels his mate’s nose bump against his jaw line next, his breath hot and steady.

Steve clumsily lifts his head up, desperate to seek the warmth of Bucky’s skin, to kiss at his stubbled cheek, seek the refuge of his warmth. He hears Bucky groan when Steve angles his hips up, the curve of his ass brushing against the rough material of the alpha’s pants. He sighs desperately as he feels the contours of Bucky’s bulge, unable to resist pressing and grinding against it, his movements clumsy yet purposeful. Steve can’t hear himself, can’t hear all the moans and whines he’s making with suddenly having his mate here, but whatever the hell it is he’s saying, he’s pleased to know Bucky is meeting him for each touch.

He suddenly hears Bucky growl above him, his flesh and blood hand sneaking underneath to curl around the juncture of his throat. There’s no aggression behind the action, but Steve goes pliant against the gesture, his body singing in response as calloused fingers press into the sensitive skin of his neck.

“You smell of Stark,” Bucky spits out, fingers coiling tighter. Steve gasps, already so lightheaded from the hormones that he can hardly speak, hardly _see_ straight. He writhes in response, though Bucky pushes his hips down, forcing Steve down onto his stomach as he completely engulfs the omegas flushed body.

 _Fuck_ , he loves it when Bucky does this.

Bucky grinds his hips forward, teasing as his bulge drags against Steve’s ass, slick catching against the material of his pants. Steve breathes raggedly, body trembling with anticipation as Bucky presses him down into the mattress. He’s damn near ready to go mad if Bucky doesn’t touch him soon.

“You’re mine,” Bucky whispers into his ear, breath scalding against the shell of Steve’s ear. “ _Mine_.”

He thrusts forward again and Steve all but howls, so delirious from the building desire that his mouth falls open, spit trailing down the corner of his mouth. He whines, body going languid as he feels Bucky pepper kisses into his sweat slick hair, his lips tickling against the short hairs at the back of Steve’s neck. He takes a moment to just kiss him, stubbled cheeks rough against Steve’s oversensitive skin as he crosses the expanse of Steve’s shoulders. He connects the freckles on Steve’s back with his tongue, relishing the way Steve shivers when he approaches the groves of Steve’s ribs.

He wiggles his hips as Bucky makes his way down the length of his spine, each kiss methodical, intentional. Steve would actually appreciate the gestures if he wasn’t so damn _desperate_.

When Bucky makes his way down the swell of Steve’s ass, kneading at the plump skin of his cheeks, he slowly, so _slowly_ separates them, watching a new trail of slick glisten against Steve’s flushed skin. He runs the rough pad of his thumb across Steve’s entrance and the skin immediately puckers, Steve’s hips swaying in response. Bucky makes a pleased sound before pressing the flat of his tongue against Steve’s entrance, practically smiling against him when Steve gasps suddenly at the gesture.

A hand keeps Steve’s hips steady as the other rubs at his back, trying to soothe his sweetheart as he trembles underneath him. Bucky presses his tongue in, lets himself indulge in the sweet scent of his baby’s slick as he twists his tongue. Steve responds accordingly, the moan punched out of him as Bucky continues the onslaught, feeling himself grow greedy with the taste of his sweetheart on his tongue.

“Please, please –” he begs, unable to hear the way his voice rises to a high pitch, his desperation palpable. “Need it, I-I _need_ it, Buck – just the tip, _please_ , just give me the tip…”

Bucky gives him one more kiss before rising back on his knees, smug as he licks the last of Steve’s slick from his lips. He can hear Steve sniffle below him, the light catching against the tear tracks that trailed down his flushed cheeks. Bucky can feel his cock twitch at the sight before him, his sweetheart sweating and aching and god, so _gorgeous_ laid out before him like this.

He just stares for a moment, entranced to know that someone so wonderful could ever choose to be his mate.

Bucky shoves his pants down to his mid thigh and lines himself up behind Steve, curving down until his chest presses against Steve’s sweat slick back. He dips his head down and licks across his mate’s bond mark, his teeth fitting perfectly in the indents as he slowly bites down.

Steve tenses, but slowly his body dissipates into the mattress, his muscles going easy like melted butter in the sun. He sighs for a moment, though he still presses his hips back, his desperation dwindling from the sudden surge of endorphins after having his bond mark stimulated. Steve gives a pretty little gasp, though he continues to push his hips back, his desire still burning bright. Bucky bites down harder, Steve moaning minutely and twitching under him.

“I got you, baby,” Bucky’s voice is raspy when he speaks, thick with desire, “Relax, I’m here.”

He still has his wits, but Bucky can feel his rut slowly starting to take him, his body reacting appropriately at the sight and scent of his omega in heat, even if it was artificially jumpstarted.

He steadies the base of his cock in his hand, exhaling a low groan at the visceral sensation. His heart races in his chest like rumbling thunder, coursing though his body and splintering into even the very tips of his fingers. When he takes hold of his cock, Bucky can feel his base already started to engorge, his knot thickening in preparation after being immersed in the sight, scent, and god, _taste_ of his sweet omega. Precome dribbles at the slit of his cock, and he brings his metal hand down to steady Steve’s hips.

“Just the tip, baby? That what you said?”

He brushes the head against Steve’s entrance, but Bucky doesn’t press in just yet, just lets himself coat his member with his mate’s slick and enjoy the desperate little plea’s his baby gives. He grins against him for a moment before gingerly, as if with all the patience in the world, pushes his head in.

He doesn’t bother fingering him open, he knows his Stevie has been ready for it for hours.

As soon as Bucky breached Steve’s entrance, the blond’s body immediately goes rigid, the moan dying in his throat as he buries his face into his arms. Steve gasps raggedly, eyes heavy lidded and cloudy with desire, and Bucky leans down to continue kissing at the back of his neck, to suck hickies around his pulsing bond mark.

The head of Bucky’s cock catches at Steve’s entrance, and he slowly slips back out, repeating the process at an alarmingly slow pace that keeps Steve just a moment away from delirium. When Steve exhales a low groan, frustrated, he tries to push his hips back, to sink himself deeper against his mate’s cock to satisfy the scalding desire that seizes his body. Instead, Bucky simply moves his hips back, completely pulling out from his partner.

“No, _no_ –” Steve gasps, desperate. He turns back to face Bucky, eyes glossy with fresh tears and a pout on his face. His brows knit in frustration and Bucky can’t help but smirk, leaning over to kiss at the crest of his Stevie’s lips, down to his bitten bottom lip and lingering on his pale chin.  

Steve’s pout is incessant, irritated as Bucky kisses him silly, wishing he wouldn’t lean so deeply into each touch but frustrated by all the teasing.

“Jerk...”

Bucky smiles, fond. “Can’t help it, baby. You’re just so beautiful right now, all needy for it.”

He kisses Steve some more and Steve can’t help but be pacified, flipping over onto his back and wrapping his arms over Bucky’s firm shoulders. He moves his legs around Bucky’s waist and bites at the man’s bottom lip, the act making Bucky gasp in response.

“C’mon,” Steve gasps, grinding his hips up until his engorged cock brushes against the coarse patch of hair on Bucky’s lower abdomen, “Quit keepin’ me waiting, Barnes…”

“Who, me?”

Bucky smirks, that cock-sure smile of his making Steve want to roll his eyes to the back of his head. Before the blond can knee him in the side like he wants, Bucky quickly adjusts his hips and presses back into Steve, giving him almost no time to think as the head of his cock breaches him once again. Except this time, Bucky doesn’t stop, he continues pushing in until he’s fully seated inside the blond, his hips pressing flush against Steve’s ass as he pushes in up until the hilt of his cock.

Steve moans beautiful at being filled up, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth falling open as the pink of his cheeks bleeds into a dark, scarlet red.

The action is so sudden that white stripes spurt out from Steve's painfully hard erection, the orgasm damn near pushed out of him the moment Bucky filled him up. Come pools low against his abs, but it does little to satisfy his need, the flame still burning bright and hot in his core. Steve leans up and kisses Bucky clumsily, moving his hips in tandem with Bucky's thrusts. Bucky fucks him slow and deep, each thrust purposeful and calculated as he brushes against his baby's prostate, relishing the way he twitches and whines in response.

It's not long before Steve can feel himself drifting. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a rough week so sorry for any grammar issues! Next chapter will include knotting and more saucy-ness, as well as aftercare. A million thanks to everyone who has left a comment and kudos on this work, your support keeps me motivated and inspired c: Chapter 4 will likely be posted next weekend.


	4. In it Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knotting, hand feeding, and general sweetness.

Steve is beautiful.

Bucky doesn’t think he’s lived a moment of his life without knowing that, without reciting that statement under bated breath. The thought always brings him back home when he feels lost at sea, drifts him back to shore on the back of soft tides. It’s rekindling, gentle; caressing like the bubbling of sea foam as it presses against wet sand. It sticks to him like the sea breeze against his cheek, an ever present force.

In all that he’s ever known or seen, never has he met someone as inherently beautiful as his Stevie.

It’s an obsession, he thinks idly amongst the desire that fogs his thoughts, the way he can’t help but gravitate towards him the same way the ocean always returns to press kisses against the shoreline.

Bucky’s teeth sink into the tender skin of Steve’s neck, the flesh red and blotchy from the dozen of love marks that have blossomed over his pale skin. The hickey’s trail down the juncture of Steve’s throat and spread across the dainty skin of his collarbones, going so far as to encircle his perky nipples. The grooves of teeth marks have yet to disappear from Steve’s left peck, Bucky’s canines going so far as to have broken skin and cause blood to pool forth.

He remembers the way Steve’s voice exhaled into a high pitch at that action, his desire cresting and forcing nonsense to spill from his pretty lips. The moment Bucky pressed his teeth against Steve’s skin, the bite a feral reflection of possessiveness, the brunet relished in the way Steve’s body tightened in response, lips falling open and muscles clenching tight as another orgasm was forced out of him. The broken skin has already healed over at this point, but Bucky’s mouth salivates as he looks down at all the unmarked skin below him, an empty canvas that he wishes to paint with bruises and bite marks.

Steve may be the artist between them, but that doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t recognize true beauty when he sees it.

Bucky’s metal hand holds his hips up from the mattress, the angle so blindingly _good_ that Steve can do little more than keep himself from falling apart. Steve hiccups brokenly, exhaling sweet little gasps that feed Bucky with waves of pride. His Stevie's throat has gone hoarse from all of the begs and screams his mate has torn out from him, and it makes Bucky feel so damn smug, knowing that he alone can tear the omega apart so beautifully.

Hours have passed and Bucky’s scent saturates the room like an all encompassing blanket, his signature scent of cedarwood filling Steve’s senses and stimulating a natural high. It had taken no more than a few minutes for Bucky to completely overshadow Stark’s scent of cologne and engine exhaust, but that didn’t stop Bucky from fucking Steve hard into the mattress, fingers hungry and teeth itching to fully cover his mate with every fiber of his being. Gone is Bucky’s patience and drawn out teasing, it has no room amongst the carnal lust that's taken him hostage.

Whereas before he made love to Steve with relaxed, calculated thrusts, gauging every minute reaction and taking note of every bodily shiver, he now fucks Steve without a semblance of hesitation, the sound of skin slapping against skin paired with ragged moans offering little room for slow lovemaking.

Before, Bucky could feel his bondmark throb every time Steve balanced against the precipice of orgasm, shivers trailing down his own spine when his sweetheart let go before him. But now, Bucky’s mark continues to flare and burn without pause, the alpha so hypervigilant of Steve’s every sensation that he can practically feel the goosebumps against Steve’s skin on his own, the delicate hair of Steve’s arms standing to attention and tickling at his own skin. He feels the sweat against Steve’s nap, the throbbing of his bottom lip after having bitten it painfully between thrusts. He fucks Steve hard and fast only to shiver in response, the weight of all these combined sensations as heavy as the rolling sea.  

His thrusts become more desperate, his knot catching and stretching against Steve’s entrance every time he pulls out, and Steve can feel his toes curling again, his eyes hazy with pleasure.

“Want it,” Steve mumbles under Bucky’s ragged gasps, leaning up to kiss at the shell of his partner’s ear, sinking his teeth behind the sensitive patch of nerves behind Bucky’s ear. He smiles coyly when Bucky shudders at the gesture, his alpha shaking in place.

“So good to me,” Steve goads, moaning from a particular thrust of Bucky’s hips, pulling the brunet down and smirking against his stubbled cheek as he forces Bucky’s weight over him.

“Too good to me, Buck, Bucky, _alpha..._ ”

“Oh fuck, Steve --” Bucky gasps, his thrusts clumsy as he buries his nose into the scent glands of Steve’s neck, his omega’s smell so thick in his lungs he can practically taste it on his tongue. His hips snap a little faster, and Steve can’t help but smile in excitement, giddy as he kisses and nips at Bucky’s jaw line, unable to contain the excitement for what’s to come. 

“F-fuck, Stevie!”

Bucky thrusts once, twice, and buries himself completely into Steve, pulling gasps from both men as Steve feels his mates knot inflate inside him, locking them together as they claw and try to close any remaining distance between them. Bucky trembles above him, long hair curtaining Steve’s face as a low whine falls from his lips, desperate to lick and kiss across his mate’s pulsing bond mark. Bucky rolls his hips as he spills into Steve, trapped in the peak of a contraction - the sensation so visceral and immense that he collapses atop of Steve the very moment its over, unable to keep his weight up.

Bucky is whispering nonsense into Steve’s ear, unable to contain the tremors that have seized him. His orgasm comes like a crashing wave, and Bucky can’t stop the onslaught, can’t help but let himself be torn apart by the raging sea. He falls apart in Steve’s arms, crumbling as he reaches the apex. He tries to bury his knot deeper into Steve, and the omega gladly wiggles his hips in response, strong arms wrapping around Bucky’s trembling shoulders in reassurance.   

Steve kisses into the sweaty strands of Bucky’s hair, cradling the super soldier against his chest.

“I got you,” Steve soothes, lips ghosting against the shell of Bucky’s ear, “You’re doin’ so good, Buck, so good for me.”

Tears clump Bucky’s lashes together, the hormones surging so hot and fast in his body that he can’t help but let a few tears slip out. He chokes out a whine and Steve kisses at his forehead, squeezing his muscles around Bucky’s knot as hard as he can; guiding him through the worst of it.

It comes in waves. At the height of a contraction Bucky gives quick thrusts, the movements uncoordinated until it slowly calms, the alpha buried deep into his mate. Steve can’t deny that he doesn’t love this part, the way Bucky clings to him desperately, seeks the refuge of his Stevie’s warmth and comfort. All the bravado and machismo so commonly associated with alphas fails to capture the fragility of moments such as these, where Bucky clings to Steve in desperation, his swelling knot forcing him into a fervent, overwhelmed state. He licks against Steve’s bondmark, fingers hungry to dig in the dip of his waist. He presses small crescent's into Steve’s pale skin, rivulets of sweat dripping down the expanse of Steve’s flushed skin.

Steve smiles into Bucky’s hair, a warm buzz settling underneath his skin. The fever that had previously seized him had dissipated in their many hours of lovemaking, the room saturated with the scent of their union and the sheets an utter mess. Steve can feel Bucky’s knot pulse within him, and he keens in approval, offering Bucky verbal validation as he sprinkles kisses into his sweaty hair. When minutes pass and Bucky rolls his hips, slowly dislodging his knot from Steve’s entrance, he can’t help but exhale a deep sigh, the sound coming pulled right out from his lungs. He buries his face into Steve’s chest, exhausted.

“You okay?” Steve whispers, voice soft. This is the fourth time Bucky’s knotted him since entering the room.

“Are _you_?”

Steve smiles, feeling warm. “Just fine, jerk.”

In a few hours he’ll see if his symptoms will repeat their cycle, but right now he allows himself to settle against Bucky, trying to ignore the itchiness of his skin.

 

***

 

Steve doesn't hear the nurse enter later that night. The only indication of an intruder suddenly entering their space evident in the low growl that merges from Bucky's throat, the languid touches and gentle kisses he had offered a moment ago immediately interrupted as he stares down the beta. Bucky sits up, the alpha's body acting as a barrier between Steve and the doorway in a valiant effort to protect him from harm. If Steve wasn't so hormone drunk, he'd be embarrassed by how submissive he was allowing himself to be under the eye of someone other than his mate, downright mortified that someone other than Bucky would see him like this.   

He doesn't remember the purpose of the altercation, but it's a relief when Bucky finally directs his attention back to his mate a few seconds later, pressing kisses into his hair and slowly feeding him fruit and water. The calm is restored in no time, and Steve remembers licking the juice of melon slices off of Bucky's thumb, savoring the mango cubes he was offered and letting himself indulge in the crispy, sweet grapes that burst in his mouth. He gets distracted a few times, sucking and teasing at Bucky's fingers with the intention of seducing his mate, but the alpha remains firm in his stance, unrelenting as he presses a strawberry against Steve's lips. Steve takes it without much fire, keening from the sweet words Bucky offers in encouragement.

_That's it, sweetheart._

_Just like that._

_God, you're such a good boy._

Bucky doesn't eat until he's certain Steve is full, and the blond simply nuzzles into him, lost in the rhythm of Bucky's raging heart and heady scent.

The hours pass in a blur, time slow as thick syrup. 

 

***

 

“Calm down.”

Steve quips a brow at his mate. He can feel Bucky pacing behind him, restless as he watches the nurse poke and prod at Steve’s flushed skin. She’s checking his heart rate, monitoring his vitals - the whole shebang to evaluate his current condition 24 hours post contamination. Bucky shuffles behind him, possessiveness flaring to the forefront of his thoughts at the sight of another individual touching his partner, especially so soon after they had last mated. It doesn't matter that the last time they fucked was nearly 6 hours ago, Bucky has never been any good at sharing. Steve can’t help but snicker when he hears Bucky inhale sharply, imagining his flared nostrils and tight jaw as he tries to keep a straight face in front of the nurse.

“Any headaches? Tenseness?” The nurse beside him eyes Steve critically, checking his blood pressure next. 

“Nope.”

Dr. Leong stares at the monitor on the other end of the room, evaluating his androgen levels. “When were your last contractions?”

“Couple hours ago. Maybe four.”

Shortest heat he’s ever had, even compared to when he was nothing but knobby elbows and bruised knees. Bucky takes a seat on the other end of the room parallel to Steve, succumbing to the touch of the nurse as she follows the same routine check up.

“How about yourself, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky shrugs, eyes fixated on Steve. “”M just peachy.”

She jots down a few more notes.

“Well Captain, thank your increased metabolism for filtering through the substance so quickly. Some of our SHIELD agents responsible for decontamination of the area are still experiencing major symptoms and are expected to remain in quarantine for the next few days.” She clicks her pen closed, sliding it into the curve of her pocket. "We have been tracking your cortisol and androgen levels in the entire time of your confinement, and have noticed a steady decline of your symptoms. Keep in mind it may take a few more days before your body returns to its optimal state, though you've made quick progress."

“Mr. Barnes, given your responses were stimulated primarily due to your bonding, expect returning to your baseline state once Mr. Rogers does. With that said, you are both excused to return to your living quarters at any time, though I anticipate to be contacted should any serious symptoms, such as another heat wave, return.”

Steve offers his thanks, rolling on a pair of hospital grade pants for lack of anything else to wear. Any questions in reference to the poison are immediately refuted, likely due to a lack of information on their part, His uniform had been taken hours ago, surely for decontamination and evidence to conduct further research on whatever the fuck was given to him. By the time they’ve made it back to their floor, Steve all but collapses onto their bed, bone tired and feeling like he's about to splinter apart. He doesn't even care that he's drenching their clean sheets in sweat, he couldn't be bothered right now if he tried. 

“You alright?” Bucky asks behind him, running his fingers through Steve’s tousled blond hair. Steve merely groans in response, relishing in the comfort of being pressed against their familiar comforter, happy to be away from the stiff hospital sheets and sterile hallways that burned his nose.

“C’mon, go shower Rogers, you reek.”

“You don’t smell much better yourself, pal,” Steve scoffs, brow perked. “Sides, don’t act like it doesn't get you hot under the collar gettin' me like this.”

“Oh, I ain’t denyin’ that,” Bucky smirks playfully, running calloused fingers gingerly down Steve’s spine. “I like it when you smell like me, helps stop all the gawking you usually get down the hall.”

“Sure, that’s the reason.” Steve rolls his eyes, sinking back down onto the mattress. Bucky hums lowly, gauging Steve’s body language. He leans down and presses his lips softly against the nape of Steve’s neck, the blond hair tickling his lips. “You sure you’re feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Steve answers, exhaling low and deep, “Just...whatever the hell that was, I’m exhausted. How the hell do you even simulate a biological function like a _heat_? That shouldn't be anywhere near to possible.”

"Hate to break it to you, but our entire world ain't too realistic, doll."

Steve shrugs, frustrated by the dozens of questions he has unresolved. He hopes Dr. Leong or the lab can succeed in unraveling this mystery, because Steve can’t fathom the idea of it being dispersed to the general public. Even with Sam and Clint apprehending the enemy and collecting the remainder of the gas, there are surely blueprints in the criminal's hands, a weapon available at any time.

Still, made more sense if they just made a neurotoxin. Steve is grateful to be alive, but giving him a boner isn't exactly the best tactile warfare technique. Trapping him in a closed environment with Botulinum instead? Much more efficient. 

“Want me to run you a bath?"

Steve smiles, refocusing on the pleasant vibrato of Bucky's voice. “You goin’ sweet on me, Barnes?”

“For a punk like you? Hell no.”

Bucky attempts to make it a derisive comment, but it falls flat, his chest too full and his body still surging with endorphins as they slowly come down from their high. He can’t help but see his Stevie and want to kiss him, card his fingers through his hair, give him his life and blood and everything in between while asking for nothing in return.

By the time he returns, he doesn’t even bother bringing Steve to his feet, simply hooks his partner’s knees behind his arm and grips at his waist. Steve pouts in response, kicking his legs in an act of defiance even as he fits his head perfectly underneath Bucky’s chin. He can’t justify being manhandled without pretending like he’s putting up a fight, and Bucky can’t help but indulge him.

When Steve sinks into the bath, the scent of lavender and calming oils thick in the air and rising from the hot tub, Steve all but falls apart right then and there, wincing when his hips hit the tub. That simple reaction makes him smile. It's nice knowing he can still feel Bucky even hours after their last session, he hates how quickly his body regenerates after the serum, how the bruises never last or the soreness never sticks. The dull sensation is a pleasant reminder. His tight muscles slowly uncoil under the heat, and it pulls sweet sighs from Steve. The lavender is a wonderful addition too, he can't wait to scrub the scent of sterile hospital soap off from his skin.

“Gonna keep starin’ or you gonna join me?” Steve asks after a moment of dazing, voice lazy and calm.

“In a sec -- turn this way.”

Steve easily obliges, Bucky’s fingers scratching at his scalp and massaging a dollop of shampoo into his hair, working it into a lather. He repeats the process twice, scrubbing at Steve’s back and kneading at the tense muscles of his shoulder.

“Jeez,” Steve sighs, pleased as Bucky rinses the suds from his hair. He glances down at his bruises chest, outlining pruned fingers across vibrant bite marks. “Looks like a bear mauled me.”

“Ain't nothin'. You should see the scratches on my back, pretty sure I can see bone with how deep you got me.”

“Oh shut up.” Steve rolls his eyes snickering, “C’mon, quit stallin’ and get in here, Barnes. You reek of gross hospital. It's makin' my nose itch.”

“So demanding.” Bucky shakes his head, removing his shirt and stripping out of his pants. “Where’re your manners, Rogers? I sure as hell know your ma taught you how to say please.”

Steve perks a brow at that, rivulets of water dripping down the miles of his pretty pale skin. “Oh Buck,” Steve calls, voice sweeter than anything Bucky’s ever heard, the intonation horribly fake yet still beckoning the brunet closer.

“Please, if you wouldn’t mind, get the fuck in here.”

 

***

 

They’re back in bed no more than an hour later.

After ransacking the kitchen, the two are curled back underneath the covers of their bed, fingers interlocked and breathing in the same heavy air. They waste hours like this, Bucky peppering kisses into the sensitive skin at the nape of Steve’s neck and lazily forming new hickey’s into the juncture of his throat. It's hardly sexual in moments like these, the two lost in the simplicity of each others kisses, touching and teasing until they slowly give in to drowsiness. It’s hours later when Steve begins to shift in place, forehead glossy with sweat.

“Steve?”

“Sorry.” Steve’s voice is low, frustrated. “Just a little warm...”

Bucky makes a displeased sound, concerned.

“Need me to do anything?”

Steve mulls the question over, unsure himself. God, he’s tired, but a low flame is starting to emerge in his chest now, kindling and growing with every passing moment. He doesn’t know what to make of this strange day that’s passed, but he tries to keep calm, to will his heart rate to find its balance.

He lifts his head up, locking his gaze on Bucky’s tender expression. His partner’s brows are furrowed, Bucky roused from his light slumber but maintaining enough attention to catch the slightest shift in Steve’s posture that would indicate discomfort. The blond bites at his bottom lip, his bondmark flaring and throbbing. He’s certain Bucky can feel it, can see the way it makes his eyes go a little glassy and his bottom lip twitch. His blood is coursing so fast through his body that he can practically hear it raging behind his ear drums, throwing off his equilibrium. At least he’s not getting slick. This is probably just a sudden hiccup, a last hoorah of his system trying to dispel the substance.

“Stevie?”

Steve sighs, a low, anxious sound. “Kiss me?”

He doesn’t know what he wants, but that’s always a good start.

Bucky is quick to oblige, and this is almost better then when he got the first whiff of Bucky’s scent after being isolated, almost better than the hours of lovemaking and sex-drunk cuddles. They waste minutes like this, the fire slowly waning from his chest the more Bucky seeks out the touch of Steve’s skin. Steve gasps against Bucky’s lips, eyes wet.

“Talk to me.” Bucky offers, cupping at Steve’s warm cheeks.

“I’m okay,” Steve nods, throat going a little tight, “I’m okay, really, just --” he shifts closer into Bucky’s side of the bed, desperate for the comfort of his touch and presence.

Steve shakes his head, losing his train of thought. Bucky presses a kiss against Steve’s temple, rubbing circles against the small of his back.

“Need me to call the doc?”

“Nah,” Steve sighs, wiggling in place. “God, I just -- I just love you, Buck. I love you.”

“Pretty sure that’s heat talk, sweetheart,” Bucky chides, the corners of his lips pulled into a smirk. He kisses the high points of Steve’s cheeks, and the blond sighs into it, trying to will his body to relax.

He’ll be fine by morning, he tells himself, leaching Bucky’s heat and hungry for his affection. He’ll be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm utterly obsessed with the idea of bondmarks, and I really like the thought that bonded pairs have kind of a 6th sense with one another, where the others feelings and emotions aren't just contained to themselves. Also - knotting being physically taxing on the alpha from how much energy it demands. 
> 
> Thus concludes my first ABO fic! Let me know how I did in the comments c: The good news is: I am currently working on the (official? unofficial?) second part of this mini ABO series! Bad news: I have no laptop on account of water damage rip so it'll take a little longer to post. Blame my friend.
> 
> In the mean time, find me on [tumblr](http://badbrooklynbitch.tumblr.com/) c: I love making new friends!!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://badbrooklynbitch.tumblr.com/) c: I love making new friends!!


End file.
